I'm writing this post from the corner of the deep blue couch in Sinead's not-so-sunny sunroom. The more I travel from place to place, the more I develop certain little habits I seem to cling to. A particular mug I always use; a fork I like the feeling of; a dish I always make for breakfast; and within the first couple of days in a new living situation, I always find a spot (over which I become very territorial.). I leave my laptop, a book, and a blanket near chosen spot, as warning signs for potential intruders. I have claimed the right cushion of this blue couch (and the fuzzy red blanket that accompanies it) as my own during the course of my five week stay at Sinead's. Even the cats acknowledge this claim, and have resentfully relocated to the left cushion of the deep blue couch.
 |
Zoe, one of Sinead's cats to relinquish the right cushion |
Sinead returned from her week in Portugal on Saturday, so WWOOFer reign of this particular Kilkenny organic farm has come to an end. We screwed up several little things during our bumbling vegetable dictatorship (a chicken ended up dying of worms and the watering system broke the first day. Not our fault.), but nothing too major. I accidentally harvested an overabundance of leeks on Monday, and have since learned all the wonderful quiches one can make with leeks. I misunderstood Sinead's egg system, so I had plenty of eggs to use in said quiches. Kevin (a "Dub" Sinead drafted to help on market day, as neither Kim or I can drive here) mistook spinach for celery during early morning harvesting, and we accidentally left all the salad bags in the polytunnels. He had to drive back to retrieve them and I had to set up the market stall by myself.
Other than those few hiccups though, the week seems to have gone pretty well. Sinead was disappointed that I didn't make more red onion marmalade, but god, I am so tired of red onions. And white onions. And leeks. We work seven to eight hours a day here, and I had absolutely no desire to spend another hour and a half cooking up batches of marmalade on the side. So I made 12 recipes and decided it was quite sufficient.
Kim and I explored a nearby walking park on Sunday. It was actually sunny outside, which was a miracle that we took advantage of by wandering about under the canopy of gnarled, ancient trees. I remarked on this to Kim, and she said "But it's so nice to see the sunlight coming through the leaves in spots." I remarked back on how vastly different sunlight is when coming through the clouds. Foliage diffused sunlight is eminently superior to cloud diffused sunlight.
 |
The walking park |
 |
We think it's a reindeer. I'd always assumed that they were much bigger, but Kim says that's just because we have mental images of them pulling a massive sleigh. |
 |
Fierce creatures, reindeers. |
 |
A ray of light coming through the trees. A rare, cherished sight in this country. |
 |
Park yoga |
 |
Park yoga |
 |
Kim deciding which of her fifteen pictures (her camera has very little built-in storage space) she can keep. |
 |
One of the many vast, gnarled trees. |
 |
I love the bits of foliage growing out of the stone walls. Things like this are everywhere. |
 |
This dog seemed to have been abandoned, so it decided to adopt Kim and me when it discovered we had chorizo. |
 |
It sat like this and stared at us until we put the chorizo away. Then it stared at the kids with the popcorn. |
This is going to be a very busy week, given the length of Sinead's to do list. We have to dig up all the potatoes before the frost, plant onions and garlic, weed a few lettuce beds, and mulch a section of the polytunnel and cover it up for the winter on top of the normal harvesting, veg box, and market. We cleaned the chicken house and moved the fences yesterday morning, and I've come to the conclusion that if I ever purchase chickens, they shall be 100% free-range. As in, I have no desire to clean chicken houses as part of a regular routine. They can get quite nasty impressively quickly, and there is no way to scrub all the feces off the floor, so the wood floor quickly transforms into a fossilized chicken shit floor.
 |
Sinead's fifty chickens. They'll lay an egg a day for one year, after which they'll have to be butchered and new chickens bought. |
No comments:
Post a Comment